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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26794009">Death by Tape</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingvault/pseuds/writingvault'>writingvault</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bendy and the Ink Machine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bendy Royale, Horror, Humor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:49:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>798</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26794009</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingvault/pseuds/writingvault</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The thought of getting killed by a sentient audio log wearing a baseball cap is extremely funny to me and if I had to imagine it you get to read about it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Death by Tape</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="">
  <p>The farther you delved into this place the more things seemed to unravel, though they only raised more questions. What happened here? Why was it left in a state like this rather than completely torn down? God knows if you'd ever find answers, right now you were more focused on leaving alive. There were still people here, they had <strong>guns</strong>, and they seemed to all be after you. You had already run into the "prophet" and the "angel", both of whom seemed more interested in blowing your brains out than anything. You couldn't say you blamed them though. In a place like this, anybody would be scrambling to save their own skin rather than worry about anybody else. It's a free for all in there.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It'd been days since you last remembered landing on this floor of the old abandoned animation studio, and even longer since you've even stepped foot in the rotting building. You were expecting it to be run down and broken inside, though you never could have fathomed something like this. Ink flooded the place, and recorded messages from previous workers were littered about like clues to some greater mystery.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Creeping across the old wooden floorboards, you yourself only had an axe for protection. Good for nothing much, though worked wonders deflecting bullets.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You pulled at another locked door, wondering why there seemed to be so many. For how many... <em>things</em>.. were still here, it's a surprise they'd take care to lock everything back up if they'd been in there. Unless they hadn't... but hadn't they had enough time to explore the building? You'd think they would've been up and down this place but.. that's another can of worms. Right now is for making sure you weren't swallowed alive by the black ooze that you swore up and down had a mind of it's own.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The sound of a quiet tapping came to your ears, though you dismissed it as the dripping of ink. You ventured onwards, still trying doors as you went in hopes of finding an early exit. Unfortunately, you didn't. And that tapping was only getting louder. Looking around, you couldn't seem to find a source though. Only another one of those tapes. Brushing it off, you still continued your journey until you found yourself in a dead end, the only thing around you being those damn locked doors and the same patronizing wood all around you. Floors, walls, ceilings, everything was made out of this wood and was beginning to blur your sense of reality. Where were you? Where have you been already, where do you have yet to be? And that tapping getting louder and louder, closer and closer -</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Something brushed against your calf, though when you looked down there was still nothing. Was this place getting to your head? It must be, with all this ink laying around.. it's not a surprise.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Turning around, you made haste to leave the dead end, but something stopped you in your tracks. A whisper, from just behind you. A voice you'd only heard a couple times upstairs, someone you hadn't met in person yet. Someone you never would.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>     <em>"I'm gunna kill ya!"</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The voice was right in your ear, cracking with age and static. You weren't sure where it'd come from, but it was the last you'd ever hear. The owner of the voice sounded friendly enough, jolly even as he offered those words as you were stabbed in the side. Of all the things in this hell, you never would have thought a sentient tape recorder would have been the end of you. He seemed ordinary enough, just a busted up piece of equipment left to the ghosts of this place's past.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But your blood ran black, the studio claiming you as one of its own. Condemning you to a life as a monster and a shell of someone used to be.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The warmth slowly left your arms, your fingers weakly curling in attempt to save any heat they still had while your vision faltered and it became increasingly harder to focus in on the world around you.You weren't sure when you had passed out, but when you came to, it was dark. There was only a bit of light coming from a source that seemed too far to reach and a constant stream of other people's screams, their cries and pleads. It made you want to shut your eyes again, to make it all stop. But the only thing that seemed to quiet it all was to move towards that light, and the closer you got  the slower you moved, as if something didn't wan't you to leave. But you pushed forward until you broke free of what was holding you back, letting yourself be absorbed by the light.</p>
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